Then God Gave Us The Ability to Understand Others (2003)

I know what she’s thinking. She must consider the termination of high school and the initiation of law at university to have broken my social spirit, where I can no longer maintain the fruits of friendships of past and present. I suppose I have not been true to what I always say, that a call three times a week, stops the relationship going weak.

Furthermore, she might also regard the evolution of my character to become more neglecting and pretentious. But alas…how wrong is she. I am still the joyous and carefree youth I was once before, even though I have lost interest in the art of covering cars with eggs and expressing myself with the colloquial profanity so inherent in juvenile socialisation.

In order to counteract any suppressed misunderstandings, I have specifically chosen to accommodate this reunion in the cafeteria that holds our dearest memories. Almost like a reminiscent reminder, a rush of pupils have just swarmed into the restaurant, demanding their orders, while toppling Christina’s black espresso.

“Fuck me! You goddam kids need to control those hormones!”

I shift uncomfortably and realign my spectacles. Attempting to conceal my distaste, I helped wipe the espresso off her and queried on the state of her leather skirt. With an exasperated look, probably intended for the children but misdirected at me, she replied that it was in approvable condition and excused herself to the lavatories. I contemplate on whether or not my assistance is required.

***

Christina knew what Jessica was thinking. It’s been two years since high school and Jessica’s been calling her every week. It’s obvious what she wants – interest on a hundred and fifty bucks adds up to quite a lot in two years. That’s why Jessica took her back to this crappy old coffee shop, to show her that she’s broke. And that ridiculously bullshit talk as if she’s threatening to sue her with her vocabulary if Christina didn’t pay up.

Christina was just about had enough of the small talk and just about to hand over the one-fifty, when those moron kids spilt her coffee all over her. Just my luck, she thought, it took a whole weekend at KFC to buy this skirt. And if that wasn’t enough, Miss Prissy over there took five minutes to ask about whether Christina’s skirt was okay, while trying to wipe the dirty off her face. Christina answered, “fine”, and escaped to the toilets.

***

I know a lesbian couple when I see them and in this twentieth century of ours, they’re everywhere, even in the daytime. Glasses and Leather makes an interesting combination, though conversation doesn’t seem to be on their agendas. You can tell straight away they’re not your normal pair of chit-chatty women. And there she goes. And there she goes. There’s no way I’ll go into the women’s, and anyways, I don’t like to pry myself into other people’s business. I’ll leave that to the female staff. So I take a few orders, “Hey babe, what can I get ‘cha?”

The girlfriends might not have a lot to say, but they sure have a lot to yell. I inch a bit closer to catch the quieter bits.

“Goddam it! Stop pestering me!” So that’s their game, a bit of resistance to spice things up.

“The rate in which the water runs through your hands are faster than the time that lapses between the basin and your skirt. I suggest you should take off your skirt and douse it in the basin”. Things are heating up. I never knew science could be so useful.

“Are you simple or just sent to shit me? This is a public loo, I’m not gonna…”

“From a rationalist’s point of view, you can use the cubicle to shield you from the public arena, while I wash your skirt in this basin”.

After a few indistinguishable grunts, nothing else can be heard from the girls except the running water from the tap. A couple of customers later, the water stops and the hand drier goes off. Sound distractions. Then five minutes or so later, I hear one call out, “I have finished, Christina. You can re-attire your skirt now”.

Glasses comes out of the toilets all wet and flustered, then sits down and orders a Tiramisu. Leather comes out (after “re-attiring” her skirt) and walks over to Glasses, throwing down some money and says, “Don’t call me ever again” and walks out. Gosh, they’ve mastered the male trade alright.